


1UP

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Ridiculous references to multiple franchises, gamers au, if it wasn't obvious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-16 22:37:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10580922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: LAN parties are for nerds. (Like these two.)





	1. Chapter 1

Kylo hates these freaking… ‘meet cutes’. He doesn’t need to humanise the freaking enemy. They’re needed because they’re more interesting to play against than an AI, because they can be dumb, or unpredictable, and because it gives more of a sense of accomplishment to frag someone who will QQ more to their mommy, but knowing what they look like doesn’t _add_ to it.

He games for fun. For himself. He doesn’t headshot people as a way of seducing them. He doesn’t camp at respawn points to find a new BFF he can swap fucking moisturiser tips with. He games for the release of exploding little pixelated people, and making real ones cry. He likes the adrenaline, and the strategy of it. It hones his reactions, and sates his bloodlust, and it doesn’t require much in the way of financial outlay or commitment.

But no. ‘Retro’ is back in, and everyone’s decided that LAN parties are back to being the Cool Thing. (Cool is probably no longer cool to say. It’s likely to be 733+ again, or pwn, or something else ridiculously dated.) And he’s love to not bother to show up, but then it would look like he was a coward, or some lame-ass dickwad, or maybe a chick. So what if he talks on mic, there’s chicks who sound like him, right? Or he could use a vocoder… anyway, if he doesn’t show, he’ll be ostracised by the local groups and everyone will kill-steal him. All he has to do is show up one time, beat everyone (like he always does), and then retire and maybe find a game with less lame idiots who want to meet up and wear their N64 cartridges on their freaking sneaker laces or something. 

(It has absolutely nothing to do with the preppy piece of shit English _nemesis_ confirming he’ll be there. Nuh-uh.)

(Okay, maybe a little.)

He shows up with Mountain Dew ( _but it’s ironic so it’s okay oh no wait do they think they’re ironic, too?_ ) and a faded t-shirt, his hair pulled back from his face so it doesn’t fall into his eyes. He is _not_ a late-stage emo. **Not**. Nor is he some kind of post-modern Goth. He just likes to wear a lot of dark colours.

Whatever.

He slouches in, hiding some of his height, and grunts non-committally at people until he finds a station that’s free. He’s got his own controller, so that should help matters, and he starts getting comfortable when he hears The Voice. Nasal, shrill, irritating. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he imagines smushing cheetos into his face one by one. Yeah. Dust everywhere. He’s pointedly not looking up until someone hip-checks his chair.

“Hey, our other celebrity is here.”  


Celebrity. Nerds. He’s a nerd, and even he thinks they’re lame. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll tell him you’re here… Hey! Grand Moffh!”  


“It’s Grand Moff _H_ ,” the man corrects, his tone even worse in person.  


Kylo rolls his eyes, and swivels his chair around. The guy… huh. Also tall. Skinny, in that affectedly American Apparel or Hot Topic way. Bright, red hair. Bright, evil eyes. Kind of hot in a ‘shit I hate you’ way.

“Anyway, Moff, here’s DarkSideCookies.”  


“Ah, I see you’ve been eating them,” H says, his nose upturned.  


“I need to, to keep in shape, with all the exercise I take.”  


“You mean your right hand, when you’re wanking yourself to sleep after I beat you?”  


“I’d say ask your mom, but I wouldn’t touch anything that had you in the vagina before me,” Kylo replies, and spins back away. He’s angry with himself for stooping to ‘your momma’ jokes, but the guy has some kind of witchcraft about him, and Kylo can’t… seem to be sensible in his presence.  


He’ll thrash him, and then they’ll be able to move on.

“Nice try. I’ll give you a B minus for effort. Are you prepared to make this more interesting?”  


“What, you’ll walk out and never come back?”  


“Loser buys the drinks all night. That is… if you’re old enough to drink?”  


“The hell are you, five? Yes, I’m old enough. I hope _you_ are rich enough to put your money where your mouth is.”  


Kylo isn’t, so he better damn well win.

***

Right. Right. “I’m sorry… no. No, no, no, no. _Aladdin_ was the best tie-in. Hands down.”

“Are you _insane_? Nooooo. You’re gonna tell me you thought _Monkey Island_ was good, next.”  


“IT WAS! WHAT PLANET DID YOU GET HATCHED ON?”  


“One with _taste!”_  


“Goldeneye was the **best** tie-in. I’m not gonna back down on that. Even with the banana- nana- _nanas_. Goldeneye. Paintball enabled.”  


“You could fucking see where people were on the splitscreen!”  


“Yeah, and?”  


“How was that at all - you know?”  


“You’re just a pussy who doesn’t like competitive multiplayer.”  


“I can compete with _anyone_. You’re just no good at co-op because you don’t _know how to co-operate with another human being_.”  


“ **LIES.”**  


**“PROVE IT.”  
**

**“MY PLACE. NOW.”  
**

*******

Playing drunk is ridiculous, and Kylo knows that. Okay? But it’s the _prinshiple_ of it. He keeps hitting Hux when he can’t think of the word to say, and then Hux’s character conveniently falls off the ledge and drops all their studs.

 _Oops_.

“I told you, you can’t co-operate to save your _life_.”  


“Maybe it’s just **you** I can’t co-op with.”  


“Yeah, well, you–”  


Kylo can’t help it. One minute he’s about to strangle the man with his dumb wii-nunchuck, and the next he’s holding his face and trying to eat it. Messily. With teeth. 

He really fucking shouldn’t, but the man’s been flirting _all night long_ (he thinks) and talking about sex in Bioware games and handing out of flowers in Stardew Valley and there’s only so much talk of Lara Croft’s drowning bosoms any man can take. 

Kylo pulls back from the kiss, hands still on his face.

“ _Finally_ ,” Hux hisses. “I thought I’d have to draw you a map.”  


“Shut up, princess.”  


“She’s in another–”  


“I swear, if you finish that sentence, you are not getting laid.”  


“…fine. Are you allergic to latex?”  


“What?”  


“Condoms. Are you allergic to latex condoms?”  


Of all the fucking… “No, I’m not.”

“Then get in the bedroom. I’m not fucking you this close to my games.”  


“Weirdo.”  


***

Grand Moff H turns out to have a very cool trick for applying said condoms, with his mouth. Which he then runs over Kylo’s cock, and makes it look freaking… _amazing_. He deep throats him like a pro, and Kylo’s a whimpering mess.

Right up until the finger slips into his ass, and he yelps in shock. 

“What?” the ginger asks, lifting his head from the sucking.  


“Warn me?”  


“…I have lube. And condoms. And your dick down my throat. Wasn’t my intention to fuck you pretty much clear?”  


“…no? I mean - don’t you _ask_ before you shove a finger up someone’s butt?”  


“Fuck’s sake, are you a virg– _oh_.”  


“I AM NOT.”  


“Right. You probably watch lots of simulated porn.”  


“Shut up!”  


“I’m going to do you a massive favour, Cookies. I’m going to introduce you to your prostate, and get you good and relaxed. And then I’m going to pound your ass like I pounded you in-game.”  


“THAT IS– _ooohhhhhhhh_.”  


Kylo should be annoyed, but the sudden rubbing deep inside is nice. Somehow the finger got back inside (more lube, he guesses) and the weird pull of it is nice. It slips in and out as lips go back around the strawberry-flavoured condom, and then there’s a sudden shock of light as he is introduced to his prostate. And the condom is introduced to Kylo’s jizz.

And Kylo howls out **MOFF** louder than he should.

He’s panting in the aftershocks when the condom is pulled off, and his cock is wiped clean with a little wetwipe thingy, even though it’s still tingly and raw. “You can call me Hux, you know.”

“Huh?”  


“It’s my name. You’re going to need it in a minute, when I fuck you.”  


“You - but I - I already _came_.”  


“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m done with you, princess. Now lift those peaches, because I’m going to show you the boss level.”  


“Has anyone told you that you’re a fucking nerd, Hux?”  


“Plenty of people. But I’m also a stud magnet.”  


Kylo can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous Lego joke, and then there’s a slip of fingers back into him, spreading him wide.

Maybe he should level up a few times, before he gets too cocky about this. He lifts his hips and moans as he’s readied. “Round Two: Fight.”


	2. Chapter 2

Hux is drinking his pretentious coffee when Kylo finally tracks him down. He’s full of rage and he’s practised what he’s going to say at least twenty times on the ride into town. It’s just - he - 

“What the _hell_ were you thinking?”  


“I beg your pardon?” Hux asks, his own pale cheeks going red from the sudden confrontation.  


“So what if you beat me in the dumb LAN game. You don’t need to rub it in my face!”  


“Oh, don’t I?”  


“No! I don’t know what you think you’re gaining by screwing up your team-mates’ scores when you betray them with friendly fire, but if I was them, I’d have you kicked out for that! What a fucking stupid thing to do! Wasn’t it enough to beat me properly? You have to _humiliate_ me by shooting your own damn side, like I’ll never win if you don’t?”  


Hux doesn’t answer, but his hands are shaking on his latte glass. “Yes, well, you got one thing right.”

“What?”  


“They did kick me out.”  


“Well… good!”  


“Now if you’d kindly stop making a scene in front of _children_?”  


Oh. Yeah. He forgot his tone a bit. Kylo shrugs. He can drink somewhere else, if he wants pretentious drinks and cakes. 

Whatever.

***

“Look, man, he’s a good gamer,” Keys argues. “And we’re at seven, since DeSnoping dropped out. The Knights need an eighth.”  


“No,” Kylo barks into his headset. “He’s just going to come in and cause mayhem. This was his plan all along. Come in, get info on our tactics, conquer and divide.”  


“He got kicked out,” Trashie reminds him.  


“Yeah, but that was a stunt! This is all so he can take point on our team.”  


Kylo knows Hux has the _slightest_ of edges on him, and now he’s refusing someone better than him. Which isn’t going to go down well for a team that just wants to win. 

But he’s damned if he’s going to let Hux ruin this for him. He’s got nothing else really to keep him occupied, so if he doesn’t stay with his own group, he might as well go back to playing fucking Minecraft. 

“Won’t you just… try?” Bandfan wheedles. “We won’t trust him right off. And we don’t really _need_ a pointman.”  


“Whatever. I’m gonna frag him every chance I get.”  


***

Kylo doesn’t kill Hux’s character, though he wants to. He feels his shoulders hunching, and he sends a few shots pinging close to him, to remind him he _could_. 

The team Vent doesn’t bubble like it normally does. Kylo won’t talk at all, and everyone’s trying for forced jollity that rings so untrue as to be disgusting.

They win, but it doesn’t feel good. 

Kylo doesn’t even sign in the next night. It’s not fun any more. Hux has won.

***

Kylo doesn’t normally answer the door unless he’s expecting a package or takeout, but the hammering won’t stop. Eventually the next door neighbour smacks on the wall and yells at him to get up, so he goes to the window and looks down.

“What the hell are you doing here?”  


“We need to talk,” Hux calls up.  


“No, we don’t.”  


“Yeah, we do. C’mon. Just let me in.”  


“How do you even know where I live?”  


“Just let me in before someone calls the cops?”  


“Fine.”  


***

Hux looks pathetic when he comes in, and Kylo is bitterly glad. He doesn’t offer him anything to drink, even though it kinda kills him not to.

“Look, if you really hate me on your team, I’ll go. I just… I really wanted to keep playing, and I thought we could work well together, and I see now I made a mistake.”  


“Yeah, your Trojan horse didn’t work.”  


“It wasn’t a fucking play!”  


“Oh yeah?”  


“You ever maybe think to ask me _why_ I betrayed my team?”  


“Because you’re a drama whore, or because you wanted to ruin my life?”  


“They were on Vent, ripping you a new one. Saying how awful you were. And yeah, maybe I would have joined in before the LAN game, but… shit. I couldn’t handle it any more. They knew we’d… you know, and they decided I was a traitor, so I capped them all and signed out.”  


Kylo pauses. “…you… weren’t trying to make me look dumb?”

“No. You do a good enough job of that yourself.”  


Shit. Shit! And here he’s been, an utter asshole, when Hux was defending his virtual honour? “…you know the shit on Vent isn’t… I mean… it’s just talk, right?”

“Well, I didn’t want to hear it. It was disgusting, and it showed me that they weren’t really my friends. And then I hoped maybe your team would be nicer, and… well. Other than you, they’ve been okay. But I guess it’s just my killcount they want…”

“No,” Kylo insists. “They’re good guys. And girls. But… shit.” He pushes a hand through his hair. “I’m… just used to being the number one, and you… are better than me.”  


“You can still take me, some days.”  


“Now you’re humouring me.”  


“A little.” Hux smiles.  


“I’m sorry. I thought you were rubbing my failure in my face. You should stay on the team. If I’m making it hard, I can always mute my Vent, and–”  


“Rob me of that voice of yours?”  


And that makes Kylo flush. “Well. If you’re not… mad at me?”

“A bit. But you can make it up to me.”  


“How?”  


“You’re buying a round for everyone. And inviting the squad out to get to know one another. Deal?”  


“Deal.” He’s been an ass, but Hux is the bigger man, and for once… Kylo doesn’t maybe mind playing second fiddle. Maybe. (Or he can try to be okay with it, at least.)  



	3. Chapter 3

So the newest thing involves multiple classes. Which. You know. Interesting.

Kylo used to only play the high-DPS, glass-cannon types. The ones that kill-steal from everyone. A bit tricky, especially in the early game, and reliant on tanks to keep him going. Then in the endgame he’d be pretty much invincible, and he’d get bored.

Which Hux had to go and point out to him.

“That’s why you keep game-hopping.”  


“Yeah, well, it’s dull.”  


“You grind through the early content, don’t enjoy the side-quest stuff, and then you get bored and drag everyone into something else.”  


That’s how gaming _works_ , right?

“So?”  


“So why don’t we make a deal. We’ll both play classes we don’t normally go for.”  


“…you, the king of rogues, thieves and scoundrels will play something _else_?”  


“I will if you don’t go for the magic-user.”  


“So…”  


Hux smiles that smile that means he’s got some kind of evil fucking plan, that normally involves _evil fucking_ , and man, doesn’t Kylo wish he knew how to do the same thing. It’s like - freaking - Kryptonite. Just a flash of those canines and Kylo’s pretty much ready to agree to play fucking… Animal Crossing with pre-teens and braid their hair or something. 

“If you do, and you properly go for it, and don’t just half-ass your class… I’ll reward you.”  


“How?”  


“You’ll see.”  


Damnit.

***

So now Kylo is playing the _healing_ class. Tank looked fucking dull (spam attacks, no thanks), rogue is too freaking fragile without even having any really good benefits (who the fuck needs backstab damage in melee?), and he’s not playing anything that means fucking singing your way out of a fight, or summoning a chipmunk to die for him. 

Healer.

Which mostly means he’s _support._ He doesn’t do big damage, he buffs, and he keeps the party going. 

It’s kinda like the reverse of a mage, though: all timing of cooldowns, working out combos and skill trees, and thinking on your feet. Instead of sapping health from the enemy, he’s giving it to the party.

Hux seems not to mind the choice, though, but he does wish the other man hadn’t gone all out on his character choice.

Female. Tank. 

Like. Okay. Kylo knows that the avatars in games are usually grossly hyper-sexualised, but seriously? The tank wouldn’t be able to fucking _walk_ with that rack, and it’s odd watching Hux’s digital self wave a huge-ass warhammer around like some phallic replacement above the chesticles. Ugh.

And… everyone else is playing their normal classes, which is when Kylo realises… they didn’t bring DPS. Their team damage is too low, and the extra tank Hux is wielding might be taking hits, but no one is fucking _hitting back._

 _“GUYS. GUYS. WE’RE NOT GONNA WIN WITH BRUTE FORCE,”_ he yells over the team Vent.   


“…shit. He’s right,” Keys says. “We totally didn’t think this strategy through.”  


“It’s going to be okay,” Hux says. “We can’t win this fast, but if we work together, they’ll run out of pots and we’ll win the marathon, not the sprint.”  


And Kylo will get fucking RSI from spamming his barriers, wards and heals. Okay. “I need you to keep an eye on their weak spots,” Kylo calls out. “You tanks are just going to have to hit where I normally would. Save your best skills for the moment their barrier falls, and get them in. Okay?”

“How?”  


“Look at the resist and immune messages. Spam a lower skill until it gets through, then hotkey smash.”  


“Understood,” Hux says. “I hope everyone took a piss before we started.”  


“Don’t talk about it, or we’ll all want to go,” Trashie complains.   


***

Much, much later and Kylo’s wrist is cramping. He’s intimately familiar with the glow of a healing spell, and he sees lens flares when he closes his eyes.

They made it, but he’s wondering how much of it was skill, and how much of it was just being bloody-minded. The enemy’s mage quit and didn’t rejoin, and after that they powered through the rest of their defences.

And thanks to him, they didn’t even burn through that many health pots. Mana, yes, but health, no.

He’s rubbing some of that weird minty shit Hux uses over his carpal tunnel when his… uh… boyfriend comes back in.

“You really came through for us,” Hux says, smiling. “Wasn’t that more fun?”  


“I could have done without the war of attrition bit, but yeah,” he admits. “I might play again, if someone takes over mage.”  


“I might,” Hux says. “If you wouldn’t feel upset.”  


“Nah. We’re cool.” Now they’re firmly on the same team, he doesn’t have as much anxiety about being kicked out.   


“So… I promised you a reward. Are you ready?”  


“Do I look ready?”  


Hux snorts. “Pants off. Pillow under your hips.”

“Sir, yes, Sir.”  


***

Okay, so Hux knows how to do things that Kylo is pretty sure he could only have learned from a secret life as a porn star, but he’s not complaining. Like this toy, which looks like some kind of claw, not a normal dildo. It’s hot pink, which is ridiculous, but who cares what colour it is when it’s inside?

Lots of lube, and he wraps a lazy hand over his cock, stroking as the toy squirms ever deeper in. It’s not as wide as some of the ones Hux uses on him, but it’s definitely interesting with the bend in it.

“Why is it shaped like that?” Kylo asks, as the toy is turned on to a low buzz.  


“You’ll see.”  


The buzz increases, and the toy angles a little more and - oh _shit yes_. It hits just right inside, and Kylo yelps, grabbing his cock by the base. It’s nudging against his prostate, sending sharp sparks of pleasure all the way to the tip of his cock. 

“HUX!”  


“I told you I’d reward you,” Hux croons, sliding the control up and down, up and down.  


Kylo is in fucking _heaven_. Like. Jesus fucking hellfire that feels good. He whines, grinding down, stroking his cock and then howling when his hands are pushed away and Hux’s mouth swallows him deep. 

“HUX!”  


“Shhh,” he says, lifting from his cock, leaving a ring Kylo didn’t even know was in there, snug around the base of his shaft. “I need you to keep it up so I can ride you properly.”  


“Hnnnngh!”  


Hux kneels on top of him, his fingers vanishing behind his back, slicking into his hole. Kylo ruts madly, waiting for the hand to guide him in, and then he’s lost between twin pleasures. A pulsing deep inside, and a slick, tight grip around his cock. 

“ _Move please fuck Hux please_!”  


“My pleasure,” the bastard says, and starts to ride in earnest, holding his knees wide as he bounces on Kylo’s shaft.   


Kylo is going to try new things more often if this is his reward. But he might politely veto the female avatar thing. That was a bit too much.


End file.
